fflBROSSLIBRARYi II LAKE FOREST COLLEGE A GIFT OF Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/faithjustifiedbyOOwrigrich THE BROSS LIBRARY The Problem of the Old Testament, by James Orr, D.D. (Bross Prize, 1905.) The Mythical Interpretation of the Gos- pels, by Thomas Jambs Thorburn, D.D., LL.D. (Bross Prize, igis) Faith Justified by Progress, by H. W. Wright, Ph.D. The Will to Freedom, or the Gospel of Nietzsche and the Gospel of Christ, by John Neville Figgis, D.D., Litt.D. (/» Press.) The Bible: Its Origin and Nature, by Marcus Dods, D.D. The Bible of Nature, by J. Arthur Thom- son, M.A. The Religions of Modern Syria and Pales- tine, by Frederick Jones Bliss, Ph.D. The Sources of Religious Insight, by Josiab RoYCE, Ph.D., LL.D. THE BROSS LIBRARY VOLUME IX THE BROSS LECTURES , . 1916 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS LECTURES DELIVERED BEFORE LAKE FOREST COLLEGE ON THE FOUNDATION OF THE LATE WILLIAM BROSS BY HENRY WILKES WRIGHT, Ph.D. PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY IN LAKE FOREST COLLEGE NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1916 fV /^ T'^ .V^' .1- Copyright, 1916, by THE TRUSTEES OF LAKE FOREST UNIVERSITY Published October, 1916 THE BROSS FOUNDATION The Bross Library is an outgrowth of a fund established in 1879 by the late William Bross, Lieutenant-Governor of Il- linois from 1866 to 1870. Desiring some memorial of his son, Nathaniel Bross, who died in 1856, Mr. Bross entered into an agreement with the "Trustees of Lake Forest University," whereby there was finally transferred to them the sum of forty thousand dollars, the income of which was to accumulate in perpetuity for succes- sive periods of ten years, the accumulation of one decade to be spent in the follow- ing decade, for the purpose of stimulat- ing the best books or treatises "on the connection, relation, and mutual bearing of any practical science, the history of our race, or the facts in any department of knowledge, with and upon the Chris- 345350 vi THE BROSS FOUNDATION tian Religion." The object of the donor was to *'eall out the best efforts of the highest talent and the ripest scholarship of the world to illustrate from science, or from any department of knowledge, and to demonstrate the divine origin and the authority of the Christian Scriptures; and, further, to show how both science and revelation coincide and prove the exist- ence, the providence, or any or all of the attributes of the only living and true God, 'infinite, eternal, and unchangeable in His being, wisdom, power, holiness, justice, goodness, and truth.' " The gift contemplated in the original agreement of 1879 was finally consum- mated in 1890. The first decade of the accumulation of interest having closed in 1900, the Trustees of the Bross Fund began at this time to carry out the pro- visions of the deed of gift. It was de- termined to give the general title of "The Bross Library" to the series of books pur- chased and published with the proceeds THE BROSS FOUNDATION vii of the Bross Fund. In accordance with the express wish of the donor, that the "Evidences of Christianity" of his "very- dear friend and teacher, Mark Hopkins, D.D.," be purchased and "ever numbered and known as No. 1 of the series," the Trustees secured the copyright of this work, which has been repubHshed in a presentation edition as Volume I of the Bross Library. The trust agreement prescribed two meth- ods by which the production of books and treatises of the nature contemplated by the donor was to be stimulated: 1. The Trustees were empowered to offer one or more prizes during each decade, the competition for which was to be thrown open to "the scientific men, the Christian philosophers and historians of all nations." In accordance with this provision, a prize of $6,000 was offered in 1902 for the best book fulfilling the conditions of the deed of gift, the competing manuscripts to be presented on or before June 1, 1905. The viii THE BROSS FOUNDATION prize was awarded to the late Reverend James Orr, D.D., Professor of Apologetics and Systematic Theology in the United Free Church College, Glasgow, for his treatise on "The Problem of the Old Testa- ment," which was published in 1906 as Volume III of the Bross Library. The second Decennial Prize of $6,000 was offered in 1913, the competing manu- scripts to be submitted by January 1, 1915. The prize was awarded by the judges to a manuscript entitled "The Mythical In- terpretation of the Gospels," by the Rev- erend Thomas James Thorburn, D.D., LL.D., St. Helen's Down, Hastings, Eng- land. This essay was published in 1916 as Volume VII of the Bross Library. The next Bross Prize will be offered about 1925, and will be announced in due time by the Trustees of Lake Forest Uni- versity. 2. The Trustees were also empowered to "select and designate any particular scientific man or Christian philosopher THE BROSS FOUNDATION ix and the subject on which he shall write/' and to "agree with him as to the sum he shall receive for the book or treatise to be written." Under this provision the Trustees have, from time to time, invited eminent scholars to deliver courses of lec- tures before Lake Forest College, such courses to be subsequently pubUshed as volumes in the Bross Library. The first course of lectures, on "Obligatory Moral- ity," was delivered in May, 1903, by the Reverend Francis Landey Patton, D.D., LL.D., then President of Princeton Theo- logical Seminary. The copyright of these lectures is now the property of the Trustees of the Bross Fund. The second course of lectures, on "The Bible: Its Origin and Nature," was delivered in May, 1904, by the Reverend Marcus Dods, D.D., Pro- fessor of Exegetical Theology in New Col- lege, Edinburgh. These lectures were pub- lished in 1905 as Volume II of the Bross Library. The third course of lectures, on "The Bible of Nature," was delivered in X THE BROSS FOUNDATION September and October, 1907, by Mr. J. Arthur Thomson, M.A., Regius Professor of Natural History in the University of Aberdeen. These lectures were pubHshed in 1908 as Volume IV of the Bross Library. The fourth course of lectures, on *'The ReUgions of Modern Syria and Palestine," was delivered in November and December, 1908, by Frederick Jones BUss, Ph.D., of Beirut, Syria. These lectures were pub- lished in 1912 as Volume V of the Bross Library. The fifth course of lectures, on "The Sources of Religious Insight," was delivered in November, 1911, by Professor Josiah Royce, Ph.D., of Harvard Uni- versity. These lectures were published in 1912 as Volume VI of the Bross Library. The sixth course of lectures, on "The Will to Freedom, or the Gospel of Nietzsche and the Gospel of Christ," was delivered in May, 1915, by the Reverend J. Ne- ville Figgis, D.D., Litt.D., of the House of the Resurrection, Mirfield, England. These lectures will be published as Volume THE BROSS FOUNDATION xi VIII of the Bross Library. The seventh course of lectures, on "Faith Justified by Progress," was deUvered in April and May, 1916. These lectures are embodied in the present volume. John Scholte Nollen, President, Lake Forest College. Lake Forest, Illinois, June, 1916. PREFACE In this essay I make no attempt to give an adequate account of the course of social evolution or to trace in detail the development of the religious conscious- ness. Least of all is it my purpose to take up the problem of origins, either as pertaining to social organization generally or with reference to religious belief in particular. Rather, my aim is to describe certain types of social life important enough to be regarded as leading stages in social or moral evolution, and to find out if possible the part played by reUgious faith in each one. The forms and features of human society to which reference is made are too well known to need illustration from sources, historical or ethnological; such citations would, in my judgment, only distract the attention of the reader xiii XIV PREFACE from the main interest of the essay, which is that of interpretation. A study of the functions discharged by rehgious faith in the leading stages of social life must, I believe, throw light upon the essential nature of religion; it will also suggest, I hope, the work which religion has still to accomplish in the advance of civilization. Such hope has been the inspiration of this writing. Henry Wilkes Wright. Lake Forest, Illinois, June 26, 1916. CONTENTS PAGE Introduction : The Rise of Natural- ism AND THE Eclipse of Faith . 1 I. The Will as the True Source of Human Progress 45 II. The Primitive Life 59 III. The Natural Life 87 IV. The Supernatural Life .... 130 V. The Universal Life 197 Postscript : The Future of Religion 262 Index 285 INTRODUCTION THE RISE OF NATURALISM AND THE ECLIPSE OF FAITH Faith we shall here understand as be- lief that the ideals of personal life can be realized, a belief which is affirmed and acted upon in advance of proof from ac- tual experience. Like all attempts to ex- press in verbal formula a familiar mental state, this definition is somewhat arbitrary and will probably meet objection. To some it may seem to broaden unduly the province of faith; to others it will appear in just as unwarranted a way to restrict the range of faith's activity. A critic of the first class would undoubtedly assert that our definition so enlarged the mean- ing of faith as to make it identical with religion itself — and morality as well. For what, he would ask, is religion in essence but such an attitude of confidence in the 1 ;V ; 2. «.;*.. R4ITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS ultimate reality, confidence, that is, that the real universe provides for the final satisfaction of personality? The truth of this assertion is freely admitted, but we refuse to find in it any objection to the conception of faith which we propose to adopt. For a philosophical study of the meaning and implications of faith proves it to be this very thing, the essence of morality and of religion as well. The second objection is of opposite tenor and will come from those who are unwilling to restrict the action of faith to the moral and religious spheres. Are not, they will ask, the confidence of the business man in the economic soundness and eventual prosperity of his country and that of the ambitious youth in his own powers to achieve professional success and re- nown genuine cases of faith .^ In so far as the confidence, in these two instances and many others that might be cited from diflFerent fields of conduct, is a sincere belief in the powers of personality to ac- INTRODUCTION 3 complish its purposes, they assuredly are. But in this instance, we should hold, they are but particular and partial expressions of that underlying confidence that the ends of self-conscious personality can be realized, which may rightfully claim recogni- tion as the primary and fundamental faith. If we thus conceive of faith as the con- fidence of human personality that the real world permits of its continued develop- ment and final satisfaction, it is obvious that we cannot with correctness contrast certain epochs or periods of human history as possessing faith with others as lacking it. Without some measure of confidence in the power of his own will to accomplish its proper purposes, man could not con- tinue to exist at all; certainly no social order could survive and make its contribu- tion to human civilization. But the con- fidence in question may be more explicitly avowed and constantly reflected on in one age than in another. So in historic fact it was in the Middle Ages; hence not 4 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS inappropriately the mediaeval period has been called the age of faith. The absorbing intellectual interest of this period was hu- man salvation, the preservation of man's soul in its essence and integrity from all the corrupting and destroying influences of the material world. Such conservation of human personality, despaired of in the deepening gloom that attended the close of the ancient era, mediaeval thought con- fidently and joyfully believed had been secured through the divine plan of redemp- tion. This divine redemptive plan became consequently the ceaseless preoccupation of men's minds in this period; it was for them the one end toward which the whole creation moved. With reference to this one end of man's salvation through the divine redemptive process, they interpreted all the facts of human experience. The one purpose of their thinking was to for- mulate, clearly and exhaustively, the Chris- tian plan of salvation, and then to dis- cover how the events of human history INTRODUCTION 5 and the objects and creatures of the ma- terial world contributed as means to the furtherance of this sublime end. Thus in dealing with natural phenomena, it knew but one method of interpretation, the teleological: the existence of objects was explained by showing the moral or religious purpose they subserved. To un- dertake such a detailed description and classification of existing objects as con- stitutes the foundation of modern science, it had not the slightest inclination; it had little or no interest in the natural world for its own sake or in the relation of natural objects among themselves. Hence the thought of this period sought to ex- plain the existence of objects, not by show- ing their natural causes, but by searching out the uses which they had for man, and particularly their value for man's spiritual edification. And when by no effort of the imagination it was possible to con- nect an object or event with the divine plan for human salvation, it was treated 6 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS as a symbol, a divinely prepared lesson of spiritual truth. To the natural world apart from these supposed spiritual uses the mediaeval attitude was one of dis- dainful indifiference: it was not worth the time and trouble required for its patient and thorough study. Little wonder that modern science has shown an antagonism to such teleology so bitter and relentless as to seem, in this day of general toleration unreasonable! Teleology of this kind rep- resents not merely a method diflFerent from, and opposed to, the causal investigation of nature; it represents the depreciation and denial of all natural science whatso- ever. In the course of time, mediaeval thought developed a fairly complete world-view. This world-view was borrowed from sev- eral sources, its constituent features being selected because of their harmony with the ruhng preconception of the period. Its cosmogony was derived from a literal interpretation of the first chapters of Gene- INTRODUCTION 7 sis. The world was created by God out of nothing in six Hteral days, designed by the divine will to be the home of man, and every other living thing was also separately created and likewise designed to serve him who bore God's image. Its astronomy was taken from the ancient system of Ptolemy. The earth was the centre of the universe: the heavenly bodies, sun, moon, and stars, revolved round the earth, giving man the heat and Ught he needed by day and by night. The physics of Aristotle was ad- mirably suited to complete this concep- tion of the physical universe. The earth was the seat of imperfect motion, hence the scene of change and decay. Motion becomes less variable and more perfect as the spheres succeed one another until the outermost is reached, where motion is per- fect and eternally the same. This outer- most sphere is the heaven of heavens, the abode of deity. This world-scheme of the mediaeval mind, had two striking merits: it agreed both with the demands of man's 8 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS spiritual welfare as he then understood them and also with the facts as they ap- peared to sense-perception. The modern world has largely lost that faith which possessed and inspired the mediaeval mind. Our loss of faith is to a considerable extent due to the fact that the advance of knowledge has compelled modern thought to abandon the mediaeval world-view. Modern science has given us in its place the universe of natural law, a universe in which it is far more diflScult to find any provision for man's continued personal development and ultimate sal- vation. In the formation of the modern scientific world-view the first and perhaps the most important step was the discovery by Copernicus that the sun and not the earth was the centre of the solar system, that the earth was, in fact, but one of a number of satellites, moving around the sun and revolving upon its own axis as well. We have become so famiHar with these ideas, the very A B C of astronomical INTRODUCTION 9 science, that we may altogether fail to ap- preciate their revolutionary import for hu- man thought. We cannot understand why they aroused such a fury of opposition among churchmen, Catholic and Protestant alike. But when once we grasp the signifi- cance of the change which the Copernican astronomy wrought in man's conception of his world we no longer wonder that the Church combated it with such unrestrained violence, with such desperate earnestness; for the belief that man's salvation through the divinely appointed plan is the end for which the whole world exists seems to re- quire as its logical consequence the further behef that the earth, the stage on which this tremendous drama of man's fall and redemption is enacted, is the centre of the universe. Everything else, the whole choir of heaven, sun, moon, and stars, is reduced to the position of mere stage-setting, is made accessory and subsidiary to human concerns. But what a different position does modern astronomy assign to the earth 10 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS in relation to the rest of the physical uni- verse ! It has not even the importance of a star; it is only a satelHte of what Laf- cadio Hearn calls a "tenth-rate yellow sun," a sun like which there are countless others among the host of stars. Such then is the home of man, and the race of man itself but a swarm of living beings inhabit- ing the surface of such a planet as it swings on its orbit; his position in the universal system is thus one of utter insignificance. Ought we then to feel surprise when we read that in 1631 a Roman Catholic prelate declared: "The opinion of the earth's mo- tion is of all heresies the most abominable, the most pernicious, the most scandalous; the immutabihty of the earth is thrice sacred; argument against the immortality of the soul, the existence of God, and the incarnation should be tolerated sooner than an argument that the earth moves".f^ The world of mediaeval thought was a world small enough for man to feel at home in. If not itself man's spiritual home, it INTRODUCTION 11 was so arranged as to enable man to get his spiritual bearings: for was not heaven itself located at the outermost stellar sphere? The world of modern astronomy- is a lonesome, an awesome, an inhuman sort of place where are furnaces of heat so intense that one faint breath would suffice to consume every living creature of earth, and frozen solitudes immeasurably vast through which go hurtling masses of mat- ter able on collision to shatter our earth to dust. In such a universe, infinitely ex- tended in space and time, man's life, the whole course of his history upon earth seems but the merest flicker destined to leave, even in the place of its occurrence, scarcely a trace. Soon after Copernicus made his startling discovery that the earth moves around the sun, Kepler discovered that the dis- tribution and orbits of the planets agree with the forms and principles of geometry, showing that the path of planetary revolu- tion is an ellipse and that the laws of plane- 12 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS tary motion are based upon this figure. This remarkable demonstration that the physical world was ordered in definite quantitative relations served both to es- tablish the Copernican astronomy and to add one more stone to the foundation of the modern mechanical world-view. In the seventeenth century Newton completed the work of Kepler by showing that the direction and velocity of planetary motion were instances of a still more fundamental quantitative uniformity which held of all motion of all bodies in the physical world. Thus it was the privilege of Newton, work- ing in ground already prepared by Galileo, to complete the foundations of modern physics; for the verification of the gravi- tation formula that every particle or atom or body in the universe attracts every other with a force proportional to their masses taken conjointly, and inversely pro- portional to the square of their distances apart, meant that the mechanical laws which hold good on the surface of the INTRODUCTION 13 earth were valid throughout the universe; that, in short, the physical universe was a huge machine. By the middle of the eighteenth century, attempts were being made to complete the mechanical world-system which had been so rapidly and securely established. To accomplish this it was necessary to ex- plain the origin of the natural world by the same mechanical principles that were shown to control its operation, and to ac- count for the birth and development of life and of mind in terms of mechanical causation. This the philosopher Kant at- tempted to do. Being desirous of proving that the divine interference which Newton believed was required to account for the origin of the world-machine could be dis- pensed with, Kant in an early work, The General History of Nature and Theory of the Heavens (1755), tried to show that the origin of the physical universe could be explained according to mechanical law, and, to this end, formulated a theory of 14 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS world-origin which anticipates in a remark- able fashion the essential features of the nebular hypothesis, later proposed by La- place and generally adopted. In other works which also fall within the earlier period of his intellectual career, Kant endeavored to explain the origin, growth, and differentia- tion of living beings by natural causes, holding that all higher forms may be traced back to simpler elementary forms, and that present differences in species are due to the direct influence of changing ex- ternal conditions, such as climate, food, etc. Not even man would he exempt from the mechanical system, but he proposed to account for his origin and development by the same natural causes. Kant's attempt thus to make mechanism universal proved to be premature, however; he himself abandoned it and withdrew to a more conservative position in later life. Over- zealous partisans of natural science have attributed Kant's abandonment of his earlier evolutionism to the conservatism of . INTRODUCTION 15 advancing age reinforced by a reluctance to break completely with the traditional theology. But such charges are quite un- justified; the reasons which determined Kant thus to change his view were the very same which influenced great natural- ists Uke Buffon in the closing decade of the eighteenth century to abandon all be- lief in organic evolution and hold fast to special creation. These reasons were fur- nished by the forms and structures of the living organism itself, as those were at that time being discovered and described through microscopical investigation and systematic research. Such scientific study served only to set in clearer light the marvellous adap- tations characteristic of life and living creatures, adaptations of species to their environment, and of organs and structures to their function and use. To account for such beautifully contrived, for such finely adjusted structures, no natural cause suf- ficed; before them mechanism was dumb; outside the province of physical law they 16 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS seemed destined to remain, as living wit- nesses to the contriving skill of divine in- telligence. To such a compromise Kant finally came: the inorganic world he be- lieved capable of thoroughgoing mechan- ical formulation, but the organic world, he thought, could be explained only in terms of creative purpose. Nearly a century elapsed before Dar- win, master-mind of the nineteenth cen- tury, as Kant was of the eighteenth, re- moved this last great obstacle to the extension of natural law by bringing the realm of life within the domain of physical causation. Darwin's achievement was two- fold. In the first place, he assembled and arranged a mass of evidence, in cumulative effect fairly convincing, that the different forms of life now existent owe their origin not to so many creative acts of Deity but to a natural process of development. Sec- ondly, he made the discovery, of which Kant despaired, of a natural cause or proc- ess able to account for the existence of INTRODUCTION 17 those organic structures which, because plainly adapted as means to the fulfilment of an end, we are naturally disposed to refer to the work of a designing intelligence. Of these two achievements perhaps the second was the more notable; for, until a natural cause could be imagined and verified able to produce these purposive structures, human thought would be justi- fied in holding to an exclusively teleolog- ical explanation of their origin. But, as we are aware, Darwin showed that, given the constant occurrence in living forms of minute variations that are inherited, then, in the struggle to exist which follows from the rapid rate of multiplication of such living beings, those variations which best fit the organism to Hve and prosper in its environment will be preserved and trans- mitted, while all others will be eliminated. As the result of these causes, variations are accumulated along those lines which adapt the organism to exist and survive; thus, gradually, the complicated adapta- 18 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS tions of living tissue, at which we marvel, take their rise. Of late years there has been some talk among scientists of the decline and even of the "death" of "Dar- winism," and from this some anxious spirits have derived consolation, thinking that it means the abandonment by science of the evolution theory. But when such state- ments are made by persons competent to judge, the Darwinism referred to is the view that natural selection is the all-suf- ficient cause of organic evolution. This latter was not even the view of Darwin himself, but of some of his followers, par- ticularly those influenced by Wallace and Weismann. Darwin in later years came more and more to doubt the adequacy of natural selection to explain all the facts, and found himself assigning a constantly increasing importance to such other fac- tors as use and disuse and the direct action of the environment. In a letter written late in life he confesses with char- acteristic candor to his chagrin over this INTRODUCTION 19 fact because it diminished the credit due to natural selection, the factor which he had discovered and which was destined to be identified forever with his name. The latter half of the nineteenth century- saw the scientific world-view in its main outlines completed. The natural sciences, brought into correlation by the compre- hensive principle of evolution, conceived of the universe as a system whose parts are determined not by an overruKngintel- ligence but by resident forces which act and react with mechanical uniformity. As this world-view gained influence over men's minds and won increasing acceptance in intelligent circles of modern society, it weakened faith and threatened to de- stroy it altogether; for such a universe as evolutionary science depicted seemed itself to demonstrate the futility of faith. Belief that the ideals of personal life can be realized is rational only if such realiza- tion is a possibiHty. ' But man's personal development requires that he be able to 20 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS choose his ideal, to plan the steps in its realization, to subject natural objects and forces to the achievement of his purpose, and finally to experience the satisfaction of its realization. This in its turn im- plies, on man's side, freedom, initiative, and personal permanence; on the side of nature, the capacity to respond to new forces and to enter into new relations. But how is this possible in a mechanically determined system .^^ The same machinery which in its regular workings struck ofif the spark of man's soul must in a short time extinguish it, and that little corner of the universe which for a brief while knew man and his busy pretensions would know him no more. This effect of modern nat- uralism in destroying man's faith in his own personal ideals and his own spiritual destiny, Huxley describes in a passage be- come classic: "The consciousness of this great truth" ("the extension of matter and causation and the concomitant banish- ment of spirit and spontaneity") "weighs INTRODUCTION 21 like a nightmare upon many of the best minds of these days. They watch what they conceive to be the progress of ma- teriaUsm in such fear and powerless anger as a savage feels when during an eclipse the great shadow creeps over the face of the sun. The advancing tide of matter threatens to drown their souls, the tight- ening grasp of law impedes their free- dom." Modern philosophy, however, has found new grounds for the faith which the ad- vancing shadow of naturalism threatened totally to eclipse, and these grounds he in the method and presuppositions of ex- perimental science itself. It was then no accident that turned the attention of phi- losophers in modern times to the processes and problems of knowledge: the facts of epistemology were just the counterbalance needed to offset the sweeping conclusions of science and prepare the way for a truly synthetic view. These epistemological studies of early modern philosophers cul- 22 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS minated in the epoch-making insight of the philosopher Kant which brought about what he Kked to call a Copernican revolu- tion in the science of knowledge. Now Kant was not only a student of philo- sophical problems; he was well versed in modern science and had given special at- tention to the Newtonian mechanics. New- ton's system made a deep impression upon him: from its study he gained that insight which is fundamental to his system; for Kant was the first to apprehend in its real significance the fact that the sciences of mathematics and physics are not accumu- lations of sense-facts, but instead are gen- uine intellectual constructions, as truly creations of the mind of the scientist as a national policy or an epic poem are crea- tions of the mind of statesman or poet. In order to bring out the importance of this fundamental insight of Kant's we must at this juncture advert to certain considera- tions which digress slightly from the main line of our thought. INTRODUCTION 23 Every view or conception of the world, including, of course, the mechanical, which pretends to be universal in its scope, must furnish explanation for its own existence as a system of thought. For the human thinker and his thought are a part of the real world and one who would explain the universe in terms of mechanism must find mechanical causes and processes able to account for them both. Now if, for the moment, the graver difficulty be ignored of introducing consciousness into the sys- tem of physical energy, we may admit that we should have at least the semblance of a mechanical explanation of thinking if we could conceive of, say, scientific generalization as the accumulation of im- pressions of a certain kind, made upon the mind by a particular object or set of objects, event or sequence of events, which repeatedly stimulated the sense-organs. Thus we should have at least the sugges- tion of an explanation of thinking in terms of natural causation. Now, this is the 24 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS way in which many persons, and frequently the scientific investigators themselves who are actively engaged in the process, tend to understand scientific induction. From the observation of similar instances and an accumulation of particular facts, the generalization is supposed to arise by a kind of natural law. Bacon, the reputed founder of the inductive method, may seem occasionally to give sanction to this view, but Galileo had a more adequate understanding of the process. The truth is that a scientific induction is a creation of active intelligence: the laws induced are not conscious reflections of the total effect of many external agencies working upon the sense-organs, they are in a true sense original constructions of the mind itseK. Working on the basis of observed fact, the scientific investigator by the exercise of his constructive imagination formulates an hypothesis, and this he is able to do because of the power his mind possesses of projecting motions and con- INTRODUCTION 25 ceiving relations in pure space, indepen- dent of actual observation. The hypothesis once constructed, the intelUgence of the originator, guided by its intuitive grasp of the logic of space and of meaning, proceeds to deduce the particular consequences which will follow in fact if the hypothesis is true. In this fashion all the great inductions of modern science, those of Copernicus and Kepler, of GaHleo and Newton and Dar- win, have arisen; as such they are standing refutations of the mechanical conception of the universe. Kant rendered modern thought a high service, therefore, when he showed that the laws of natural science are intellectual constructions, that mathematics and physics in particular are not assemblages of facts but elaborately wrought-out conceptual sys- tems. But, we are tempted at once to ask, do we not, when we thus speak of the laws of nature as constructions of imaginative intelligence, neglect their dis- tinguishing feature, their outstanding char- 26 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS acteristic? We are familiar with the prod- ucts of the imagination in other fields. The novelist, for example, through the exercise of his imagination creates a group of characters, fills in every important de- tail of their appearance, dress, and situa- tion, records every significant act and in- cident of their life histories, and all with such consistency and lifelikeness that we say his story is truer than fact. For all that, because the story is a work of imag- ination and not a narration of actual oc- currences, we assign it to the realm of fic- tion rather than the domain of fact. On the other hand, is not the salient feature of a scientific law its standing as objective fact, in diametrical opposition to all that is subjective and fictitious .^^ Does it not express a uniformity in the operation of real forces, an underlying uniformity and hence a basal fact? The question arises, then, how such a generalization, admittedly the creation of human intelligence, ac- quires the standing of objective fact. This INTRODUCTION 27 was Kant's great problem. His solution was that such principles and products of our thinking gain objectivity from the work they do in making more orderly, more harmonious, more unified, the world of our common human experience. For, he held, the difference between the objec- tive world and any realm of fiction or of fancy is that the elements of the former are so bound together in fixed order and relationship as to constitute one system, the same for all human minds. Kant's answer is undoubtedly true as far as it goes, profoundly and indubitably true. Many of the products of our think- ing, generalizations of intelligence or con- structions of the imagination as they may be called, do acquire the standing of ob- jective fact in just this way: they agree with, and correlate, a number of different instances; they harmonize many discrepant and conflicting facts; they unify and re- duce to system a mass of unrelated and hence bewildering data. This is what oc- 28 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS curs in the every-day life of all of us. Suppose that I enter my classroom one morning and instead of the order, neatness, and warmth which I expected to find, am disconcerted to feel a rushing draft of cold air, to see a jagged hole in an upper win- dow-pane, and to observe muddy foot- prints on the floor. For the moment, I stand perplexed, trying to imagine some explanation. Then I remember that I saw some boys engaged in a ball game just outside the window on the previous afternoon, and wonder if their ball did the damage. I notice that the window broken is on the side of the room toward their playground, that the hole in the glass is about the size a ball would make, and that the mud or dust upon the floor is such as they would leave if they had entered and searched the room for their ball. I there- upon accept my hypothesis as true in fact, and do so because it agrees with and correlates all the data present to my senses. When I adopt such an hypothesis as INTRODUCTION 29 truth, moreover, it does not remain some- thing distinct from and added to the empirical facts; it merges with and be- comes part of these facts. The broken window now becomes the window broken by the ball, and the muddy footmarks the footmarks of the boys. Thus do fact and theory merge in the constitution of our real world. In exactly the same way are many scientiiBc postulates verified: they are accepted as true because, better than any other beliefs, they agree with the many variant and apparently conflict- ing facts in a certain field, and reduce them to order and system. On this ground the theory of evolution has been accepted by scientists: it was Darwin's achievement to have assembled the facts and then to have shown that the evolutionary hypoth- esis was the only generalization sufficiently comprehensive to correlate them all. Kant then discovered one of the ways in which our intellectual constructions are verified and given standing as facts. But 30 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS this was, after all, but one method of veri- fication and hence furnished only a partial solution of the problem. And when a partial truth is taken for the whole, in any field, the outcome is bound to be serious error. This is what occurred in the development of Kant's philosophy, and particularly in the thought of his immediate successors of the German ideal- istic school. Kant made it plain that the laws of natural science are hypotheses which owe their objective reality to the work they do — ^but this work, as he thought, was wholly intellectual, the organization of the data of experience into an ideal, a conceptual, system. Now his followers Fichte, Schelling, and particularly Hegel, went on, as they believed, to develop the logical implications of his standpoint. Since the work of thought is thus to organize the data of experience, the ultimate aim of all thinking, or Truth, is necessarily a completed intellectual system, a system of ideas which shall comprehend and make INTRODUCTION 31 place for every detail of experience. Since, furthermore, our thought gains objectivity- according as it furthers the organization of conscious experience, it follows, so these thinkers maintained, that a completed in- tellectual synthesis, such as we understand Truth to be, is also identical with the fullest, the most complete Reality. Now, it is obvious that such an ideal unity has been achieved in no human experience, and if we believe, as the successors of Kant did believe, that the existence of such a completely organized experience is implied in the efforts of our intelligence to organize the data of our experience, we must suppose that it takes the form of a superhuman experience, an Absolute Thought, in which all the details of our conscious lives, fragmentary and conflict- ing as they appear to be, are comprehended and reconciled. And, as by the exercise of our thought we continue to unify and systematize the details of our limited ex- perience, in an increasing degree we partic- 32 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS ipate in the Absolute Experience and share its perfect reahty. In this way Kant's theory of knowl- edge was transformed into an intellec- tualistic philosophy. For it is plainly a consequence of this reasoning that man as a finite being attains fuller reahty not by endeavor of action to transform the ac- tual conditions of his existence, but by eflFort of thought to see things as they are, all comprehended and reconciled within the one absolute system. This position, once taken, has further consequences re- pugnant to our moral consciousness — con- sequences which led finally to the rejection of absolute idealism and, unfortunately, to the partial discrediting of the Kantian principles underlying it. If reality attaches only to that which is embraced within the unity of the Absolute Experience, what becomes of the inconsistencies, the discordant and conflicting features of our human experiences^ They must be re- garded as apparent, not real, as illusions INTRODUCTION 33 due to our imperfect understanding, cer- tain to disappear when we attain the larger vision. The difficulties in such a view come home to us with special force in two vitally important connections. In the first place, the independence and initiative of individual human wills seem to violate that perfected unity of the absolute thought and to produce persistent opposition and open conflict in the world of real fact. Secondly, evil seems to be rooted in a radical maladjustment in the nature of things. Now, the absolute idealist, if true to his principle, is bound to regard both human freedom and the different forms of evil as illusory and unreal: in so far as the human individual attains reahty, he is merged in the Absolute Experience, and to such a one, who sees things as they are, all that appears to be evil proves to be a means to a larger good. Such a view dis- courages effort and belittles moral struggle; it is repugnant to the conscience of the modern world. 34 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS Thus a check was given to the growth of a new humanism existing in germ in the philosophy of Immanuel Kant, a hu- manism which sees the laws of natural science in their true character as working hypotheses, as plans for human action ac- cepted on faith and tested by the help they give man in enlarging the sphere of his conscious control. Kant himself as- sisted in concealing these humanistic im- pHcations of his thought when he made the test of these working principles exclu- sively intellectual. This led his successors finally to conceive of them as principles resident in the world for thought to dis- cover rather than as tools or instruments employed by man's will in its effort to control and transform the world, tested by the aid they supply in this undertaking, and replaced by other principles when these prove more efficient. To conceive of the laws of nature as uniformities of relation required to maintain the coher- ence and completeness of the Absolute INTRODUCTION 35 Thought IS to substitute for a physical, a logical, determinism, just as fatal to man's freedom and opportunity for per- sonal development as the most thorough- going materialism. Further knowledge, both of the inter- dependence of thought and action and of scientific methods of verification, was re- quired before the momentous consequences of Kant's Copernican change of position in philosophy could be rightly understood and appreciated. Nearly a century elapsed before this knowledge had been gained, and it remained for an American school of philosophy to prove conclusively that all belief, in science as well as in religion, depended upon practice for its verification. The genius of WiUiam James, co-operating with the incisive thought of John Dewey, developed a doctrine well known as Prag- matism, which is destined to stand as a permanent contribution to the solution of philosophic problems. Two facts deeply impressed the minds of these original prag- 36 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS matists and suggested their famous doc- trine: the discovery by genetic psychology that in organic evolution intelligence has been developed as an aid to action, a means of adjustment, and the general recognition by working scientists that their so-called laws are not transcriptions of reality but man-made instruments whose use is to correlate old facts and lead to new ones. These and other facts seemed to the found- ers of pragmatism to justify the general conclusion that the test of truth is always success in practice, that those ideas are true which, when acted upon, lead us to the results we expect and desire. Other verification than this, they maintained, there is none: there is no significant dif- ference for thought which does not make a difference in action. A practical dif- ficulty, a situation to which no habitual response is adequate, furnishes the oc- casion for thought; the solution of this difficulty constitutes its validation. For this doctrine that all thought takes the INTRODUCTION 87 form of belief, which looks forward to the results of action to be verified, the prag- matists found ample confirmation in all the leading departments of human ex- perience: in the ordinary conduct of daily life, in religious faith, in scientific pro- cedure. The truth of my belief that this road leads to the lake is ascertained by walking down it and observing where it comes out. The truth of my belief that this fabric is fast color is found out when, on wearing it, I expose it to the sun and rain. In religion, whose hypotheses are not subject to the usual tests of experience, beliefs are tested by their effects (primarily emotional) upon the mind of the believer: do they give him the hope and courage to struggle on in pursuit of his ideals, or the resignation and fortitude required to en- able him to endure his trials and disap- pointments? By their "fruits," not by their "roots" we should know them, said James of religious beliefs. In science the true theory is the theory which enables 38 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS the investigator to predict what will happen when, under laboratory conditions, natural processes are allowed to take their course. The belief that water is composed of two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen is verified when in the chemical laboratory a combination of these elements in this proportion is observed to result in the familiar substance. The doctrine of pragmatism made an instant appeal to popular intelligence — in particular to minds which were seeking a new basis for religious faith in the world of modern science. The popular vogue of pragmatism was largely due to the sim- plicity, the clearness, and the practicality of its cardinal principle, presenting such a striking contrast to the labored argument and technical subtlety of traditional meta- physics. But, as the case is bound to be with apparently simple, sun-clear, and open- air philosophies, when pragmatism was interpreted, amended, and elaborated to meet a flood of hostile criticism it became INTRODUCTION 3d as complicated and abstruse as any highly wrought product of the philosopher's study. Two of the criticisms directed against the pragmatist doctrine have especial interest for us: one concerns the fields in which ideas "work"; the other has to do with the character of the result which gives verification to our ideas when they are acted upon. With reference to the first point critics at once maintained, and the pragmatists acknowledged the force of their argument, that ideas work intellectually as well as in the field of action. One of the leading functions of ideas is to correlate other ideas; beliefs and conceptions are accepted as true because they reduce to order and system many previous judg- ments which, as they stand, are not merely diflFerent but contradictory. On these grounds, as we have seen in reviewing Kant's theory, many of the generalizations of natural science are adopted as true. In its original statement, indeed, prag- matism tended to be as one-sided in its 40 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS emphasis upon the adjustment of acts as the Kantian theory was in its preoccupa- tion with intellectual synthesis. Upon the second point, hostile criticism main- tained that the outcome which was sup- posed by pragmatism to establish the truth of the belief which guided the action could not be the pleasure or satisfaction of the individual agent, nor even his ma- terial comfort and prosperity; for these results are frequently obtained by in- dividuals who are acting upon beliefs gen- erally admitted to be false, while con- versely many an idea which the experience of humanity proves to be true has brought to the individual who acted under its guidance only disappointment and poverty and misery. Many persons, for instance, have achieved material prosperity, have accumulated fortunes, by acting upon the belief that every man has his price and that one must outwit his fellows if he does not wish to have them outwit him — but such results do not prove the truth of the INTRODUCTION 41 belief in question. No, the true idea is the idea which works "in the long run," and when we take the long run into con- sideration we have to acknowledge the underlying identity of all human interests and say that truth belongs to those be- liefs which, when taken for guides of ac- tion, contribute to the ultimate good of humanity. This pragmatists have been loath to admit, but it is impossible to see how, if they do not, their theory of knowledge escapes individualism and sub- jectivism. Unless amended in some such way, it is little better than the teachings of the ancient Sophists; it makes such be- hefs true as the individual finds it advan- tageous to hold. It is evident, therefore, that if practical success be adopted as the criterion of truth, practice cannot be understood as meaning mere outward action, the ad- justment of the living individual to his natural environment. It must be inter- preted in a larger sense as identical with 42 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS all voluntary action, all purposive activity. If it is thus understood there is no con- ceivable ground for excluding the fields of thought and emotion from its territory: surely both intellectual and aesthetic ac- tivity may be purposive, voluntary; truth and beauty may be ends sought by will, as well as prosperity and efficiency. It must be identified with the satisfaction of human personahty in its universal as- pect. It means the realization of the personal capacities of every human in- dividual, means the fullest personal de- velopment of humanity. To such a prag- matism as this the ethical idealist should have no objection: to be sure, it sub- ordinates truth to the ultimate moral purpose of the world, but such purpose the idealist takes to be the ground of all existence whatsoever. This new humanism which modern phi- losophy offers us, able to restore our con- fidence in the powers of personality so badly shaken by the great wave of nat- INTRODUCTION 43 uralism which followed the extension of the scientific world- view, is thus a synthesis of critical idealism and pragmatism. It recognizes toill as fundamental to human personality, as the root of human activity, the source of human progress. Thought, then, is a particular expression, a special- ized function of will. All ideas are orig- inally programmes of action which look forward to conduct for fulfilment and realization. Hence all beliefs are orig- inally postulates, and faith is prior to fact; for ideas must first be adopted and acted upon before they can be estabUshed as facts. The fields of conduct in which ideas are thus tested are those of thought itself, of action, and of feeling; in these three departments of his life, intellectual, technical, and aesthetic, man is pursuing his personal ideals and, through the out- come of this activity, is receiving the judgment of reality upon his beliefs. The result which certifies the truth of a belief is the same in these three fields of prac- 44 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS tice — extension of the sphere of man's conscious control, enlargement of the con- tent of his personal life. Such is the view which underlies the in- terpretation of human progress to be given in these lectures. The types of belief, or forms of faith, both scientific and relig- ious, which characterize each of the main stages in man's social evolution will be considered in their relations of dependence and development. Thus we shall permit the course of progress itself to speak con- cerning the validity of the great determin- ing beliefs of human history. But before beginning this survey, we must pause for a brief consideration of the nature and workings of the human will, the source of man's personal power, and of his social progress. CHAPTER I THE WILL AS THE TRUE SOURCE OF HUMAN PROGRESS Will is an activity which, Hke Hfe itself, IS so pervasive, so many-sided, so incalcu- lable, as to resist definition, since to define we must make distinctions and set limits. In attempts to characterize will, one is most likely to err through emphasizing one of its two leading aspects at the ex- pense of the other. Some investigators concern themselves altogether with the influence of will upon outward action; they conceive it as a control or co-ordina- tion of bodily movement. This concep- tion of volition primarily in terms of organic behavior suggests an explanation of voluntary action in terms of mechanical causation, and leads to a neglect of that 45 46 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS other most notable and distinctive feature of volition, the ability to choose between ends and to originate courses of activity. Absorption in this second, the "spiritual" side of voluntary activity leads, on its part, to a conception of the will equally abstract. Impressed by the fact that will is free from the shackles of natural causa- tion, that its activities are in some sense self-caused, moralists have often been led to an empty and negative conception of will, as essentially characterized by its lack of any determination whatsoever. If we would understand the character of will as an actually existing power of human nature, we must for the moment turn away both from the principles of biology and the metaphysics of freedom, and look directly at it as it operates in the conduct of man, both in the evolution of human society and in our own choices and pursuits. This we shall, of course, be doing when we review the principal stages in man's social development, but THE WILL 47 a preliminary statement will be useful in clearing the ground for this survey. When we thus look directly at the workings of will in our experience we find it acting in two capacities. We find, first, that it is a factor in the physical world of bodies and of motion, that it directs the movements of the physical organism which it inhabits, and in consequence determines the move- ments of other bodies both living and non-living. Through the instrumentality of his physical organism, man combines the materials and harnesses the forces of nature: thus he builds habitations and conveyances, fashions tools and weapons, constructs machines; he also assembles other human individuals for purposes of intercourse, industry, war, and govern- ment. But all these actions he performs as a means to the attainment of ends, that is, personal satisfactions. Thus we find will acting in a second capacity quite different from the first: that of choosing between different objects in accordance 48 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS with their value as ends. Now, these ob- jects which are chosen as sources of per- sonal satisfaction diflfer in many ways, no- tably in their degree of comprehensiveness. Some are specific and temporary, such as an article of food desired at any partic- ular moment; others are more general and lasting, such as wealth or family prestige; others are still more inclusive, such as national welfare or the knowledge of truth. But whenever will is exercised continuously and is thus given opportunity for self- expression, we find it selecting and seeking the most comprehensive ends, those ends which include the largest number of par- ticular satisfactions and promise to pro- duce the fullest and richest personal life. Thus, will, viewed in the light of human history and experience, appears as a power constantly striving so to control the forces of nature and to adjust the tendencies of social life as to bring about the most com- prehensive satisfaction of human personal- ity. THE WILL 49 When we consider the abilities which are prerequisite to the operation of will, a voluntary action seems a notable achieve- ment. So, in fact, it is; among living creatures only man is, as far as we know, capable of volition. Yet any child of three or four years, of suflScient mental develop- ment to have a desire and to seek its ful- filment, possesses this power. Indeed, a simple act of volition, such as any child is capable of, may illustrate in an effective way the different factors which co-operate in all voluntary activity. Suppose that a child of four, tired of play outdoors, comes into the house. The room which he enters contains familiar toys which excite the play impulse in him, and packages as yet unopened which awaken his instinctive curiosity. This pressure of instinct and impulse he is able to resist, however, because a definite desire has seized him. In obedience to this desire he, disregarding everything else, walks straight across the room to his 50 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS mother's side and asks her to tell him a story, a new story with soldiers in it (for he has just seen soldiers passing). When she demurs he continues to urge; finally, he gains her consent and sits down satis- fied by the prospect of the coming tale. In such a case of action from desire we have a simple instance of that voluntary activity which is the root and source of all personal life. For the child who thus acts from conscious desire refuses longer to permit nature, in the form of inborn instinct and involuntary impulse, to act through him; he asserts his right as a free being to determine his own action as his intelligence approves. Now, even in our example, which illustrates will at the earliest stage of its development and consequently in its simplest form, we can distinguish in the operation of willing or volition three factors. The first of these is thought and imagina' tion. The boy imagines his mother telUng hini a story, and this, his idea of something THE WILL 51 which does not yet exist, sets itself in sharp contrast to objects actually present to his senses, such as toys or books. Un- less the human individual is able to con- ceive or imagine objects not yet existent, he will be unable through his own initiative to realize such objects. The idea itself, the imagined story-telling, that is, is the outcome of previous experience, of mem- ories of stories asked for, told, and enjoyed. But in thought past experience is not merely revived and opposed to present fact; it is taken to pieces, altered, re- combined. Thus, the story asked for need not be identical with the one last told, but may be a new one whose sub- ject had been suggested by that day's play. Thought, reinterpreting rather than reproducing past experience, gives expres- sion to the unitary self or personality which is developing throughout the course of such experience. The second factor is feeling. Because he has enjoyed the stories told him in the 52 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS past the child finds the idea of Hstening to a story very pleasant. But while the story told him remains merely an idea, it conflicts with the actual facts. This con- flict between what is wished for and what actually exists produces strain and tension in the child's consciousness, which is felt as painful. When he wins the desired con- sent, however, and the story begins, he feels pleasure in ''getting his wish," thus removing from his mind the conflict be- tween idea and actual fact. Feeling re- flects the effect upon the self of seeking and attaining new objects. Action is the third factor. Moved by the idea of the story which he desires but does not hear, the child takes steps which, he believes, will bring the longed-for result. He intercedes with his mother in the manner which promises to be most effec- tive, meeting objections with the best re- plies he can devise, until at last the result is gained. In action, the individual grap- ples with the actual situation, and so THE WILL 53 transforms it as to provide for the realiza- tion of his idea. But while thought, feeling, and action are all essential to the operation of voli- tion, in none of them do we find its essen- tial quality revealed. No one of them may be said to determine the will; for, in the first place, volition is more than the execution of a programme thought out beforehand in every detail. It is impossible through thought to foresee the actual course of events at every point. No amount of thinking — even if he pos- sessed all the wisdom of his elders — would assure the boy of our illustration of his mother's consent, or anticipate her every objection. Then, secondly, volition is more than the resultant of feelings produced by past experience . and influencing present conduct, for the pleasures of the past have all of them arisen from special situa- tions, and the past guarantees their repeti- tion only when the situation itself is re- produced. But our wills are always facing 54 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS new situations whose pleasure-giving pos- sibilities are uncertain. If it is not a new story that the child wishes for, it is an old story on a new occasion and the enjoy- ment it will furnish can only be ascer- tained by trying it. Finally, volition is more than the outcome of action. To attain such result as the circumstances permit, in the most skilful manner pos- sible, is not to exercise volition. A result must be gained in order to satisfy the will, surely — ^but it must be such a result as appeals to the doer because of his own personal experience and, for this reason, such a result as satisfies himself. To be able to persuade his mother to tell the story will not satisfy the will of the boy unless, because of his own experience, he has come to enjoy story-telling. The true nature of will is revealed only when we understand it as embracing thought, feeling, and action equally, not merely assembled as parts, but merged by their co-operation into a vital unity. We THE WILL 55 discover the essential quality of volition when we think of it as an activity which is ever striving, through a variety of chosen objects, toward a general end or result, and this result is self-expansion, the ex- pansion of the boundaries of conscious Kfe until it shall include and assimilate everything that is real. Will is, therefore, the cause of all our human development, being both the demand which we as in- telUgent persons make for more life and a larger world and also the power to at- tain such life and to realize such a world. Subjectively, it manifests itself as the capacity for faith, belief in the ability of conscious personality ultimately to master and absorb all that exists, and thus gain for itself permanence and reality. Such faith does not contradict reason or dis- regard fact; it is based upon reason and utiUzes such facts as a rational interpre- tation of past experience furnishes. But it refuses to be limited by past experience; it proposes to discover new facts that 56 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS shall enlarge the scope and enrich the content of personal life. Objectively, it appears as the ability to venture, the will- ingness to abandon objects already at- tained and proved satisfactory for the sake of other objects as yet unattained and uncertain, which promise larger pos- sibilities of satisfaction. This venturing is not the foolhardiness which contemp- tuously flings aside hard-won and certain goods in the pursuit of objects whose promises are alluring but deceptive; it is rather that true courage which dares to jeopardize the limited although secure satis- faction of the present in a deliberate and strenuous attempt to attain new objects which, in the larger life they involve, make permanent place for, and impart new signif- icance to, the satisfactions at the time sur- rendered. Even in our trivial instance we find the essential character of vohtion il- lustrated. The child resists the appeal of surrounding objects to his senses and asks for a story because his germinating THE WILL 57 personality demands expansion in an ob- ject which shall express himself. He shows faith, for he believes in what no wisdom, human or divine, could predict for a cer- tainty— that his mother can be persuaded to tell the story. He is able to venture, for he gives up the assured pleasure which his toys would furnish in order to seek an object which, although it contained larger possibilities of self-satisfaction, was at the time remote and uncertain. It is this activity of volition, maintain- ing faith in the power and permanence of personality, and daring to venture for the sake of a fuller life and a larger world, which is the true cause of all man's prog- ress. In the pages which follow we shall see it determining the successive stages of human development. "We cannot kindle when we will The fire which in the heart resides; The spirit bloweth and is still, In mystery our soul abides. But tasks in hours of insight will'd Can be through hours of gloom fulfilled. 58 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS "With aching hands and bleeding feet We dig and heap, lay stone on stone; We bear the burden and the heat Of the long day, and wish 'twere done. Not till the hours of light return. All we have built do we discern." (^Arnold: *' Morality,") CHAPTER II THE PRIMITIVE LIFE The simplest and lowest type of human life is that absorbed in the gratification of momentary desire. At the dawn of its development man's will finds expression in the pursuit of objects which attract it by the pleasure they promise at the very moment. This type of life, given over to the pursuit of present pleasure, may therefore be taken as the initial step in human progress. In thus distinguishing a kind of human life entirely given to the gratification of present desire, we are by no means asserting that men or groups of men have ever lived so preoccupied with present pleasure as never in the whole course of their existence to have had a single thought for the future or its hazards. This may well be doubted, for the instinct 59 60 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS of self-preservation would prompt men to seek escape from future pain as soon as the first ray of self-conscious intelligence had appeared. But it is also true that races or tribes of men do exist and have existed whose life is, in the main, a pursuit of the objects of momentary desire. With the advance of civilization such groups become rarer; their life is of necessity savage and nomadic, and possible only .under exceptionally favorable conditions. These conditions are actually realized in some equatorial regions and tropical isles where neither clothing nor shelter is re- quired for the preservation of existence, and abundance of food is ready at hand. So situated, men can live and do live without serious thought for the morrow, absorbed in the enjoyment now of food, now of play, now of rest, now of com- panionship, combat, and sexual or parental love. Then, among more civilized peoples are individuals whose lives rarely rise above this first low plane of attainment — THE PRIMITIVE LIFE 61 only here the social environment does not usually permit the uninterrupted indul- gence of present desire, even if it were otherwise possible. We all know of in- dividuals whose momentary desires are so strong and whose power of realizing future consequences is so weak that they are unable for long to keep out of the clutches of the law. Still further, even among the most civilized of men, persons whose lives are for the most part thoroughly regulated have periods of moral relaxation in which they seem incapable of doing more than following momentary impulse: we all de- mand, as William James puts it, our "moral holidays." This type of life, de- voted to the quest of present pleasure, constitutes the beginning of man's de- velopment away from the animal with its blind instincts and dumb stirrings; it is in truth the primitive human life. Man's first movements in pursuit of ob- jects are not the result of his conscious 62 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS choice; in truth, they do not come from his will at all. These movements have their source in the mechanism of the hu- man body. Man is born with certain paths of connection already established in his nervous system. These established nervous connections cause him to react with definite sequences of movement when his sense-organs are stimulated in certain ways. They are called instincts, and it is instinct which leads the human individual first to eat, to sleep, to play, to talk, to imitate, to resent. Instinct operates me- chanically, as a bell rings when the button is pressed. Sometimes it is an article of food which, when visible, presses the button; the ringing which follows takes the form of movements to grasp, to bite, to swallow. Sometimes it is the sound of an approach- ing enemy which presses the button; then the ringing of the bell consists in the move- ments of limbs requisite to speedy flight. Or it may be that by the look or voice of another human being the button is pressed; THE PRIMITIVE LIFE 63 then the movements of play or of combat or of imitation constitute the response. But although instinctive movements have no conscious motives, they are accompanied by consciousness: the individual who re- acts feels the exertion of moving to secure the object, and the pleasure of possessing it. Such experiences of movement and resulting pleasure associate themselves in memory with the sensations that orig- inally came from the object and stimulated the movement. The result of the associa- tion is an idea of the object as an end of action, that is, a source of satisfaction. Thus in the early stage of his mental de- velopment man comes to have ideas of different classes of objects that appeal to his various instincts. The world into which human intelligence awakens con- tains, therefore, many kinds of objects that are interesting, that possess value because they promise enjoyment when attained. These attractive objects fall into two large groups. There are inan- 64 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS imate objects, such as food and drink and coverings, which appeal to the instincts of food and shelter and curiosity. Besides these are living beings which arouse such instincts as those of sex, of companion- ship, of play, and of combat. Here, then, we find the true beginnings of the life of voluntary achievement. Upon these objects of natural instinct, become ends of conscious desire, the human will is directed: in pursuing and appropriat- ing them volition achieves the first step in self-expansion. Man's power of will is originally mani- fested, then, in seeking the object which he at the moment desires to obtain — the fruit on the neighboring tree, the companion- ship of a fellow, the refreshing coolness of a plunge in the stream, the smile or caress of a maiden, the view from the distant hilltop. Looked back upon from the van- tage-point of later development, such in- dulgence of momentary desire seems sim- ple and easy enough: the only effort which THE PRIMITIVE LIFE 65 civilized man exerts in connection with momentary desire is that required to re- sist its inherent impulsion and to restrain it in the interest of future well-being. From this superior standpoint it may seem absurd to regard the gratification of passing desire as an achievement of spirit, a triumph of personality. Why, it may be asked, is faith required to yield to the urgency of present impulse, where is the element of venture in seizing and enjoying what one happens at the time to want? But faith and venture are both of them present, nevertheless; desire is a genuine expression of will and these fea- tures are inevitable accompaniments of volition. Faith is present because the fulfilment of simple desire involves belief in the reality of the ideal. The object of desire does not exist except as an idea in the mind of the actor, yet his belief in the reality of his idea is strong enough to cause him to disregard all other things actually surrounding him and to expend 66 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS effort in seeking this ideal object. Faith is exercised even when the object desired is not merely imagined (as is frequently the case), but is actually present to the senses, tempting him with its alluring qualities; for it is never the object as present to the senses merely, which is desired and sought: it is such a sense- object conceived as an end, that is, thought of as affording specific satisfactions. Thus, when the savage desires the fruit he sees hanging from the tree, it is not simply the fruit which he perceives by sense of sight that he desires, but the fruit which he imagines as possessing certain pleasant qualities — that, for instance, it is sweet to the taste, cool and moistening to the throat, appeasing to hunger, etc. To seek an object of desire is also to venture. For the outcome of the simplest activity under- taken in response to desire is in some de- gree uncertain. The object may fail to possess the looked-for qualities, the agent may prove incapable of enjoying them even THE PRIMITIVE LIFE 67 if they are there, some unexpected event may frustrate his endeavor. In such case he will have expended effort in vain, he may have missed beneficial influences from the objects of his former environment, he may have incurred exhausting fatigue or met with injurious accident. Thus the savage who climbs the tree after the desired fruit may find it sour and unpalatable, or its expected sweetness may prove unpleasant and nauseating, or he may fail in his eflFort to climb the tree, perhaps falling and incurring injury. In such cases he certainly will have expended energy fruit- lessly (no light matter with him, it may be) , he may have missed the refreshing sleep which the quiet and the shade would have brought him had he remained lying in the grass beneath, and it is possible that he might be crippled by a fall. Now it is just this faith, whether justi- fied or not, which creates for man his first world. For in the operation of momentary desire a postulate is impHed. This post- 68 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS ulate, when explicitly stated, is that partic- ular objects exist which, when attained, will exhibit certain characteristic qualities. Such belief is not the result of logical reasoning (although accumulating experience may make it increasingly probable); it is an affirmation of will. But, although only a postulate, it transforms a succession of sensations into the consciousness of a world of objects. It is, in fact, man's will giving him a world. The contents of this world are many and varied; its ob- jects vary with diflferent races of men and according as the natural environment of these different groups varies. Yet there is a limit to this variation; for all men possess the same fundamental instincts and consequently come to value the same general sorts of objects. The objects in question are both animate and inanimate. In the latter class fall all the objects of the physical environment which have a bearing upon man's existence and comfort, such as fruits and minerals, wells and THE PRIMITIVE LIFE 69 streams, plains and mountains, sun, cloud, and rain. To the former belong both animals and men: the first thought of as supplying food and clothing, the second apprehended in the momentous social re- lationships of sex, parenthood, and clan- ship. The world which the human will creates in its first grapple with the con- ditions which confront it is thus a world of different things which possess char- acteristic qualities. These things are con- ceived as centres of activity, as substances, each displaying its own nature in distinc- tive attributes — and, in their aggregate, they constitute the primitive world. Simple though the structure of this primitive world may be, it is the product of two different modes of thought: the object which first confronts the human will is really a combination of interpre- tations made from two different points of view. In the first place, the human in- dividual who would act must apprehend objects in terms of the bodily movements 70 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS required to approach (or avoid) them. Thus objects are perceived to the right and left, as high or low, as near or far, as stationary or moving; they are located in space. Now the movements which must be made to obtain two different objects are never, at any one time, just the same; as we say, no two bodies can occupy the same position in space at the same time. Hence the perceived location of the single object in space belongs to it alone and is shared by no other. And since the move- ments which two or more different in- dividuals must make to obtain the same objects are never just the same (two hu- man bodies cannot occupy the same space at the same time), the perception of ob- jects as located in space is always, strictly speaking, an individual matter. Yet for small groups living in close proximity the location of different objects is practically the same. Their knowledge of the posi- tion of the things that concern them is in a large measure common knowledge: THE PRIMITIVE LIFE 71 for all of them the neighboring hilltop is high, the plain is wide, the ocean far toward the setting sun; for all the region of game is identical, the stream containing fish runs in the same direction. But, in the second place, the human being who chooses objects for pursuit must conceive them also in terms of the satisfactions they are able to afford him. Thus he is led roughly to classify objects according to their qual- ities— ^berries and flesh as good to eat, spring-water as clear and cool to drink, the skins of animals as warm to wear. Now, since the same satisfactions are fur- nished by many different objects (many kinds of food are edible, many kinds of skins are warm and dry) they do not as qualities belong, like location in space, to particular objects only, but are com- mon to many. They are universals, are characteristics of classes of objects. Thus every object that is sought as an end by human volition unites both existence in particular time and place and value in 72 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS the possession of certain desirable quali- ties. It follows that the action required to obtain the object of will in the first stage of its development is peculiar to the in- dividual. To go to drink from the spring near by requires a different combination of bodily movements from every member of the clan. These movements cannot be described in general terms (not completely by our modern science and scarcely at all by primitive thought). They can, how- ever, be imitated, and when to such imita- tion is added some elementary instruction through the medium of language, action begins to be generalized and standardized. Thus the clan learns to hunt together, to fight together, to build by common action some rude shelter. The ends of action, on the other hand, are in a measure com- mon to different individuals from the start. For much the same satisfactions are sought by all men because their instinctive de- sires are identical and the quality of fur- THE PRIMITIVE LIFE 73 nishing such satisfaction belongs not to single objects but to classes of objects. Hence all the group may together seek and enjoy food, obtaining it in diflferent ways from different sources. When in the development of language names are given to these universal qualities and they become the subject of discourse the founda- tion of intelligent social life is laid. Thus values are from the beginning social, and the social consciousness is originally a consciousness of value. This is a neces- sary result of the fact that, while the cir- cumstances of human existence vary end- lessly, and the modes of human action differ without limit, a unity of will underlies all human life in consequence of which men have common ends and desires. The outcome of the activity which we have been considering, wherein the human individual seeks through his own bodily effort to secure the object which he at the moment desires, is a succession of en- joyments. This is the case, providing, of 74 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS course, he is able to obtain the objects which he seeks, that his actions are suc- cessful in yielding the satisfaction sought for. Now, it is not impossible that the succession of desires should, for a consid- erable time, gain fulfilment; for, as the child who is favorably situated may live a life of care-free delight or sunny enjoy- ment, now playing, now eating, now rest- ing, as it pleases him, so Nature may prove an indulgent foster-parent, permitting her human children to enjoy an almost un- broken round of pleasure in the gratifica- tion of succeeding desires. Feeling may, therefore, be said to be the dominant factor in the natural life of man: the will which we have seen to be its source here strives to secure and prolong present pleasure and to escape the pain which momentarily threatens. The pleasures sought and en- joyed are not merely those which arise from organic well-being and betterment, however. These play an important part, to be sure, but to them is added the plea- THE PRIMITIVE LIFE 75 sure which comes from the successful at- tainment of an object with which the will of the individual has identified itself, from the unimpeded exercise of the will itself. Thus the savage, who obtains the game which he hunts, enjoys not . merely the beneficial effects of the food which it pro- vides but also his own success in the hunt- ing. The satisfaction which he gains is not to be understood as simply a pleasant feeling which tones the consciousness of a living organism which has been affected beneficially; it is a composite, a concrete consciousness, a pleasure which results from the successful appropriation of an object which proves to have just those qualities for which it was chosen and sought. Indeed, it is possible for an action momentarily detrimental to man's phys- ical well-being, to yield pleasure when attained, because his will has identified itself with just this object. Thus a savage might enjoy winning a race which he upon impulse had run with a fellow despite the 76 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS fact he was suffering great momentary pain in result of his unwonted exertions. While it is possible that action from momentary desire should bring an unbroken succession of pleasures, it is exceedingly improbable. The conditions of man's exis- tence on this earth are such as to make it practically impossible for him always to succeed in obtaining what he at the mo- ment desires. Objects fail to yield the expected satisfactions: the well proves to be dry, the fruit to be bitter, the game to have migrated. Fellow humans fail to exhibit the looked-for traits: the trusted helper becomes the jealous rival, the ad- miring companion becomes the scornful critic, the friendly acquaintance becomes the vengeful foe. And when the objects sought after retain their pleasure-giving qualities the forces of nature are liable at any time unexpectedly to interfere and frustrate all man's efforts to attain them. In fact, the life absorbed in the pursuit of present pleasure exists, when it exists at THE PRIMITIVE LIFE 77 all, on suflferance of nature; the existence of those peoples who live entirely in the present and take little thought for the fu- ture is notoriously precarious. The sword hanging over their heads may have its slender thread cut instantly by any one of a score of perils, such as famine, pestilence, storm, wild beasts, or human foes, and the best that can be said for them is that their death when it comes may be merci- fully swift, sudden, and unexpected. Just here, in this thwarting of man's will in its efforts to secure the object which at the moment appeals to it, enters evily the tragic feature in human life. Under the head of evil is included all the influ- ences and tendencies arising out of the actual conditions of human life that hin- der or frustrate man's will in its efforts at self -expansion. In the very first stage of human progress, when man's will ex- presses itself in effort to gratify present desire, evil is present unmistakably and ominously in its two characteristic forms. 78 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS It appears, first, as the failure of physical forces and objects to meet human expec- tations and to fulfil human needs. Sec- ondly, it appears as the failure of other human beings to afford the satisfactions which the individual's social instincts cause him to expect from them, and this because they as individuals have desires of their own which they are seeking to gratify. The will of the human individual comes inevitably into conflict, first, with the forces of nature, second, with other human wills: in the first conflict consists natural or phys- ical, in the second, moral or social evil. It would appear, then, that man's world fails from the beginning to justify the faith he has put in it. Accepted modes of action do not result in the attainment of the desired object as was expected, and objects when attained do not manifest the quahties ascribed to them. How does the will react to this emergency.^ By sur- rendering its faith and sinking back into the quiescence of discouragement and de- THE PRIMITIVE LIFE 79 spair ? Not at all ! Volition's response is characteristic of its dauntless courage, its inexhaustible resource. To this crisis it responds with another beUef more venture- some and far-reaching than the first. It assumes that the objects of desire are con- trolled by superhuman spirits who are susceptible to its influence, responsive to its appeal. The will of man proposes to insure itself of the satisfaction which it seeks by winning the favor and enlisting the strength of the spirits who control the objects of its desires. Thus the savage believes that the spring gone dry can be made to gush forth water if by prayer, adulation, or sacrifice he can gain the ear and secure the assistance of its pre- siding divinity. Hence he is led to take the measures which seem to be required in the way of rehgious rite and ceremony to insure himself of success in the hunt, victory in the fight, children in marriage. At this juncture, then, we behold relig- ion entering the world of human experi- 80 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS ence — ^religion, a factor of determining im- portance in man's life, an essential feature in his progress. In its earliest and simplest form religious faith consists in belief in the existence of agencies possessing more power than man possesses, because they are able to control actual objects and forces in a way that he cannot, and also having personality since they are capable of under- standing man's petitions and sympathizing with his desires and acting to fulfil his needs. The gods are, therefore, from the beginning conceived as spirits. With the origin of man's belief in spirits, invisible personal agents, we are not here concerned. Probably a number of influences con- tributed to the formation of this belief. But these spirits become objects of relig- ious faith only when they are controlling factors in conduct, when they are utilized as instrumentalities by volition in the achievement of its ends. Then the gods become man's helpers and protectors, co- operating with his will in its eflFort to en- THE PRIMITIVE LIFE 81 large the scope of his personaUty by giv- ing him control over physical objects and forces, and over the psychical states of himself and his fellow men. The at- tribute of divinity most prominent in the infancy of religion is undoubtedly power. The gods are necessarily many, since the objects which affect, favorably or unfavor- ably, the fulfilment of man's desires are many and diverse. There are gods of the forest and the stream, of the mountain and the storm, of the fight and the hunt, of feasting and procreation. These divin- ities may be imagined in the forms of familiar animals but they always pos- sess personal powers not attributed to any animal. Since, moreover, human desires have source in instincts common to all men, and the primitive group or clan seeks to gratify these desires in a common nat- ural environment, the same divinities an- swer for the whole group. Religion is, therefore, a social institution from the. start. As the gods possess the essential 82 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS attributes of personality the methods of persuading, beguiling, and (occasionally) threatening them are identical with those used in dealing with fellow men. Petitions are addressed to them, they are eulogized and cajoled, gifts are presented, bribes are oflFered, bargains are made. Since they are gods of the whole group, and the objects they control are desired by all and frequently sought by common efiFort, their worship tends to become a social ceremony and a symbol of group unity. Even with the reinforcement of religious belief the effort of man's will to obtain satisfaction through the pursuit of the objects of momentary desire is doomed to failure. It may be diflBcult to understand how religion in this crude form could give any real assistance. How, may we ask, could man ever so deceive himself as to believe that his prayers and sacrifices would bring him success in the hunt or the fight .'^ Surely his experience would soon teach him that the actual course of events THE PRIMITIVE LIFE 83 proceeded quite uninfluenced by his at- tempts to secure divine interposition in his favor. But we must not forget that it is precisely this actual course of events of which primitive man is most densely ig- norant. As the game suddenly and mys- teriously disappeared from its accustomed haunts, just so suddenly and mysteriously it might return. What more natural, then, than to ascribe its return to the interfer- ence of a friendly deity .^^ The persistence and value of religion at this stage is not due, to be sure^ to any intervention in the processes of nature made on man's behalf by his gods. Never, we know very well, was a single human desire fulfilled through a control of the natural conditions exercised by these imaginary beings. But faith in their existence and power enabled primitive man to keep faith in himself, in the power of his personal will, and in this lay the value of his religion. It gave him the strength and courage to keep on trying in the face of disappointment, failure, disas- 84 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS ter. Religion is here (as always) the will's affirmation of confidence in itself, in the power of personality and its ability ulti- mately to achieve that reality for which it yearns. Despite the essentially unsatisfactory and ineffective character of the primitive life and the moral necessity for transcending it, this way of living is, nevertheless, the genuine starting-point of man's progress and, as such, is rooted permanently in our human nature. The more highly organ- ized and comprehensive types of life which have replaced it are maintained only by continuous exertion of the will, and period- ically we grow tired of exercising this power — of the strain of holding the atten- tion fixed upon a remote and imaginary goal, of the effort of adjustment and con- trivance required to fit the vivid, urgent present, with its demand for instant grati- fication, into the scheme or pattern pre- scribed by the visionary ideal. In such periods of moral fatigue we tend to relax THE PRIMITIVE LIFE 85 into the primitive mode of life, to abandon ourselves to the governance of passing impulse. Nay, more than this, the legiti- mate holidays that we all must take are necessarily of this character; for a time we allow ourselves to be absorbed in grati- fying momentary desire, with the pre- caution that such pleasures as we may thus enjoy do not interfere seriously with the larger enterprises to which we have committed ourselves. Thus we relax in a holiday at the seashore (to choose a casual instance), losing ourselves in the sensations of the moment and heeding no influence but the call of passing desire, now walking on the sand, now taking a plunge in the surf, now resting on a hill in view of the sea, now sailing toward the distant island. On such days it is not difficult to relapse into the animism of our primitive ancestors: we seem to feel the spirit of the sea, now sunny and caress- ing, now brooding and sullen, now violent and implacable; we could worship the 86 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS sun in his serene and lofty course as the source of heat and light and growth; the voice of the wind becomes almost articulate with messages from far-away shores; the white sails of the distant ship seem ani- mated even as the outstretched wings of the soaring gull. ^ CHAPTER III THE NATURAL LIFE In the course of time man discovers another way of obtaining the object of his desire, more eflfective (if not easier) than invoking the power of its protecting divinity. This is to observe and to avail himself of the regular sequences of nature, thus utilizing natural processes and em- ploying natural forces. From the begin- ning men seem to have had a vague notion of the existence of impersonal forces which controlled the objects of their world in a manner quite different from the personal influence exerted by divine spirits: the arts of magic believed in and practised by primitive people are proof of this. But such physical influence was so much less familiar than the control of nature by spirit which the earliest human experience appeared to illustrate, and promised assis- 87 88 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS tance so much less certain and immediate, that its possibilities were almost entirely overlooked in the hope of securing instant relief through divine interposition. But man could not remain for long blind to the regular succession of events in nature. He must soon notice that the green fruit preceded the ripe, and that both followed upon bud and blossom; he would observe that the growth and decay of vegetation followed the order of the seasons; he would also see that the same seasonal rhythm governed the movements of animals, their mating and reproduction, their migration and change of covering; nor could the effect of such physical influences as heat and cold upon the skins he wore, the food he ate, the water he drank entirely escape him. To take practical advantage of these regular sequences of natural process seems to us a simple step; but to primitive man, groping his way in a strange world, the step was not easy nor to be taken quickly. THE NATUEAL LIFE 89 The hoarding instinct which man shares to some extent with the lower animals would encourage him to dry and store grains and herbs for the coming winter or to await the migratory movements of the animals in summer and autumn in order to secure meat sufficient for the months when they are absent, as the northern Indians hunt and kill the seal and caribou. Indeed, such provision for food and clothing and shelter during the cold and lean months of winter is the con- dition of human existence in the upper temperate and subarctic regions. It is still a long step, to be sure, from such en- forced following upon the regular sequences of nature to the intelligent employment of natural processes to secure a purposed result, such as we find in systematic agri- culture and animal husbandry. How this further step was taken need not concern us, although we may indulge our fancy by imagining how it may have been. A handful of grain scattered by accident 90 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS upon some soft and broken ground near the encampment in winter or spring would result in the growth of the familiar plant the succeeding summer; such growth with the ripening fruit would be connected in observant and retentive minds with the scattered seed; an enterprising individual would be prompted to experiment the next season by planting some grain he had carefully saved for the purpose. Or an animal, perhaps wounded, would be captured alive in the hunt; some whim of its captors or, maybe, real sympathy for its suflfering and terror would lead them to relieve its pain, feed and fondle it; in the course of its gradual recovery it would be tamed and made submissive to the weight of man or child upon its back or to the tension and pull of the harness attaching it to cart or sledge. In some such way, we fancy, the first beginnings were made in tilling the soil and in the care and use of animals. When man, in effort to provide for com- THE NATURAL LIFE 91 ing needs, seeks ends which lie in the future and not in the present, he rises to a higher plane of achievement; he lays the founda- tion for a more comprehensive life. This larger life has also its source in volition. It is, in fact, just a further expression of will: the will to have a life not confined to the present moment but extending over and uniting a succession of moments, the will to have a world not of single objects merely but of regularly ordered events and uni- formly acting forces. Arising as the crea- tion of his own will as it encounters objec- tive conditions, this new world costs man both effort and suffering; for future com- fort is secured only by present toil, future suffering is prevented only by present pri- vation, and thus to resist present desire and to forego the certain pleasure of its gratification requires an effort greater than any made hitherto. The larger life calls for a greater faith, the larger world in- volves more hazardous adventure. It is necessary to remind ourselves somewhat 92 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS forcibly of this fact, since through train- ing and social experience, foresight and prudence have become so habitual with us that we are apt to forget that pro- vision for the future springs originally from faith, not knowledge, that confidence in the uniform operation of natural forces is primarily an act of will rather than the counsel of reason. Faith must be exer- cised because that future welfare to which man must sacrifice the desire of the pres- ent exists, at the time when the sacrifice has to be made, only as an idea in his imag- ination. To this idea, to his ideal of a future life, man must attribute a reality superior to that possessed by the present in which he actually exists. Such reality he can give to his ideal future only through an act of will, and in such act of will, as- serting the reality of the unperceived and unactual, consists faith. Of course, thought, interpreting past experience, may approve of such faith. Certainly faith, to be ef- fective, must be based upon knowledge. THE NATURAL LIFE 93 must go as far as possible under its gui- dance, and must never run counter to it. But knowledge can never justify such con- fidence in an imagined future, can never prove that this possesses a reality equal or superior to that possessed by the actual present. In the final reckoning, the future of any human individual must remain, as far as his knowledge is concerned, un- certain. Our knowledge enables us to fore- cast the future with remarkable accuracy, but does not guarantee it; all the science of civilized man does not enable him to predict with assurance what his future will be ten years ahead, one year ahead, one month, one week, one day ahead. The universe is so vast, its possibilities are so many and varied, that the element of con- tingency cannot be expelled from human life: always uncertainty will remain, al- ways the unexpected will happen. There- fore, to sacrifice a present which, for all its limitations, actually exists — vividly, insis- tently, exists — and promises certain satis- 94 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS faction, for the sake of a future which the fullest knowledge must leave uncertain is in the fullest sense of the word, to venture; it calls for genuine courage. But, some one may interpose, even the animals, without the intelligence which enables man to fore- see and plan, provide to some extent for their own future; they build shelters and store food for the coming winter. Surely such provision for future needs is not to be reckoned a great achievement on man's part! Yes, but the operation of instinct in the case of such animals converts pro- vision for future need into a present im- pulse whose indulgence furnishes immediate pleasure. And man's intelligence, while it unrolls the curtain of the future a little way for him, also reveals to him what the animal never knows — ^the vicissitudes and uncertainties of earthly existence, the im- minence of disaster and death, the tran- siency of mortal life. No, man's reason seems at times to justify him in snatching at the delights of the flying present, for- THE NATURAL LIFE 95 getting if he can the perils of the future. Certainly intelligence does not give to man the fuller life to which he aspires, nature does not present him with the larger world for which he yearns. These must come through labor of spirit, through the "slow, dead heave of the will": man must walk by faith; he must have the courage to grapple with his own future. The expansion of the boundaries of human personality to include the future along with the present and past, we thus see to be the work of volition. It rests upon a postulate of rational will, the sec- ond which is implied in man's personal development, the postulate that events occur in fixed sequences which when followed out enable man to provide for his own future comfort and safety. This is belief in the uniformity of natural processes as seen in their bearing upon human action. A recognition of the fixed order in which events actually occur makes it possible for the human individual to utiHze objects 96 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS existing in the present as means which may be depended upon to produce pur- posed results in the future. Thus man is led to transfer the power to produce re- sults which he feels in himself to these existing objects and they become for him causes. The postulate which we are con- sidering is, of course, no other than the principle of causality. The uniformity of operation which this principle posits has a double application, to outer, or physical, and to inner, or psychical, events. Applied to the physical world, it means the dis- covery and acknowledgment of the more obvious and, in a sense, fundamental se- quences of nature: those pertaining to the seasons and the weather, of the sun as causing light and warmth, of sultry heat as followed by cloud and thunder, of cloud as bringing rain; the sequences of plant and animal life, such as germination, growth, fruition, and decay; the action of the fa- miliar materials, like wood, stone, skins, and finally metal, under diverse conditions, THE NATURAL LIFE 97 such as heat and cold, pressure and strain. Uniformities are at the same time ob- served in the behavior of human beings. The sequences here perceived and utihzed are really of psychical events, although, to be sure, psychical and physical processes have not as yet been clearly distinguished. Certain impulses are seen invariably to produce certain movements; the leading motives of human conduct are singled out and connected each with its characteristic expression. Anger is recognized as the cause of assault and blows, fear the cause of flight, lust as the cause of intrigue and abduction; love, moreover, is seen to re- sult in loyalty and service, avarice in the accumulation of property and the harden- ing of the heart, indolence in poverty and dishonesty. Thus we find a nascent recog- nition of the two great types of causal re- lationship: the mechanical in the action of physical forces, and free agency in hu- man behavior. Upon these observed sequences in the 98 FAITH JUSTIFIED BY PROGRESS action of physical objects and of human beings is based a way of hving which we may call the natm'al life — natural, because it is engaged in utilizing familiar forces of nature to preserve man's natural exis- tence and secure his physical comfort. This has been the dominant mode of living among men since the dawn of human history; it is still the typical human Ufe, Uved by the great majority in Asia, by the peasantry of Europe, and the most of the rural pop- ulation of America. In fact, until the modern industrial system took its rise, this mode of life was lived by all mankind ex- cept tribes of savages on the one hand and that comparatively small fraction on the other which, through favoring circum- stances or superior intellectual endowment, had escaped its limitations and at the same time lost its substantial benefits. It is the life which follows the rhythm of the seasons, expanding into vigorous out- door activity when the warm spring sun thaws the frost from the ground and dis- THE NATURAL LIFE 99 solves with its genial rays the icy shackles which have bound brook and stream and contracting within doors to the sedentary occupations of the fireside when the frost re- turns in the late autumn and the wind blows bitter-cold over the snow-covered fields. It is the life which is rooted in the soil, the life of sowing and of reaping, of spring festival and of harvest home. Almost the whole of its sustenance is drawn from the soil which furnishes necessary food, and fuel for cooking and winter heat, and materials for building and tools. It is the life which depends upon the possession and employment of domestic animals: horses, cattle, sheep, goats, and poultry are systematically bred and cared for in order that they may serve purposes of transportation and draft, or may furnish food and clothing. The stable is an ad- junct to the house, the poultry populate the dooryard; the offal from the stable feeds the land, the soil in its turn produces food for man and beast. The social Ufe 100 FAITH JUSTIFIED^ BY PROGRESS which has this agricultural setting consists for the most part of the association of mem- bers of the family and the rural neighbor- hood in the common work of satisfying their fundamental physical needs. Co- operating in the toil of house or of field, participating in the hearty pleasures of the family meal, the mutual enjoyment of the warm hearth and comfortable bed, if to these common activities we add those which spring from the sexual and social instincts, such as courting and marrying, the begetting and rearing of children, with talking and jesting, the singing of songs and the playing of simple games, we have taken account of the main features of man's natural social life. If we consider now the activities by which man seeks to attain future comfort and security, we find that they differ in important respects from those by which he seeks to gratify his present desire. In action from momentary desire which is the earliest and simplest expression of THE NATURAL LIFfe' ,•;^ •; ^i?ji :'(;•, will In man, the human individual en- deavors through movements of his own body to gain possession of the desired object. Such movements are of necessity pecuhar to the individual; they follow from his position relative to the object, from his own physique and skill; they cannot be generalized or reduced to rule. But the activities by which man endeavors to pro- vide for his future welfare are based upon observed sequences of events. They can become matters of common knowledge; hence the activities based upon them can become the common practice of a people, or of mankind. The practice of agricul- ture which gives character to the type of human life we are discussing well illus- trates this. Depending upon sequences of natural events carefully noted, the rota- tion of the seasons, the variation in the moisture of the soil, the stages in growth, and so on, the successive steps in this activity are identical from year to year, and the same with all individuals. The /:^a|]^*